


Cold Palms, Warm Words

by agerefandom (tazia101)



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Age Play, Panic Attacks, Reader-Insert, Regressor Reader, We Need Better Regression Tags On Here, agere, reader uses she/her pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazia101/pseuds/agerefandom
Summary: A stressful day at school finds you huddled in the bathroom, trying to feel bigger than you are. Help comes in the form of Alice, one of your classmates, who seems to know exactly what you need.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale
Comments: 9
Kudos: 161





	Cold Palms, Warm Words

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr, @agerefandom. I use non-sexual kink tags because AO3 doesn't have a good system for tagging age regression yet, but I hope that I can popularize the agere tag! I hope you enjoy, I love Alice so much and everyone deserves a hug from her.

You’re usually so good about not regressing at school. Some days, you bring your smallest stuffie to school in your backpack, just so you know that there’s a friend nearby, but you always try to stay big in class. Regression is for home, when you can close your door and cuddle up with all of your plushies to watch a cartoon.

But it’s a Friday afternoon, and you’re in the middle of math class, and you just can’t focus. You know that a hug from your stuffie would be so nice right now, but you can’t just bring them out in the middle of class. The thought of that comfort, so close yet so far away, is almost enough to make you tear up. Your throat is starting to hurt, and the numbers on the board are absolutely incomprehensible. Your pen is resting on the page, but it hasn’t moved in at least half an hour.

You can feel that you’re about to start crying, and you don’t want to draw any attention to yourself, but you take a shaky breath and put up your hand.

“Yes?” the teacher asks, pausing his lecture to look at you.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” you ask, clenching your pen between your fingers and willing your voice to be steady.

“Sure.” He walks over to his desk to get the hall-pass, and you stand up to take it on the way out. You try to smile at him as you leave, and he gives you a concerned look. You probably look almost as bad as you feel, but he hands over the hall-pass and you hear him picking up his lecture as you close the door behind you.

Once you’re in the empty hallway, you make a beeline for the bathroom and shut yourself into the stall in the corner. You didn’t see anyone else in here, but you still try to keep quiet as you let yourself begin to cry. You’re too small to be here, with all of these big kids, and you can’t do all this stupid complicated math! You want to be home with all of your stuffies and your softest blankets, and you couldn’t even take your backpack to the bathroom to get a hug from a single stuffie.

It’s not fair!

You curl up on the toilet seat as you start to cry harder, tears dripping down your face as you try to wipe them away. You want your sippy cup and your comfiest PJs and you want to take a nap after you finish crying. The last place you want to be is school, and the last thing you want to be is a big kid.

Through your tears, you hear the door to the bathroom swing open. Immidiately, you put both hands over your mouth, stifling the sobs that have started hiccupping in your chest. You try to stay still as footsteps come down the stalls towards you, but you can hear yourself sniffling quietly in the silence.

Then the person in the aisle calls your name softly, and you realize that you recognize the voice. It’s Alice, from your math class. She’s one of the Cullens, a family in your town that’s well known for being both wealthy and made up of extremely good-looking people. You’ve shared a few classes with Alice; she’s always drawing in the back of the class, but manages to answer the teacher correctly whenever they call on her. You’ve snuck a peek at some of her doodles: they’re as impressive as everything else that she does.

You’re really not sure why she’s in the bathroom calling for you.

She stops outside your stall door and calls your name again gently.

“Are you in there? It’s alright, I just brought your backpack. I thought you might want it.” Sure enough, she slides it under the door.

You reach for it, hug it to your chest. You don’t know if you can talk right now, but you do your best.

“Thank you. Y’didn’t need to.” Your voice is high and shaky, and Alice’s is smooth and calming.

“It’s no problem. I told the teacher that you hadn’t been feeling well, so he’s not expecting you back in class.”

This kindness has a wave of relief washing over you, and you hear yourself starting to cry in earnest again.

“Oh, no, honey. Don’t cry.” Alice sounds distressed on the other side of the door. “Is there anything I can do? Do you want a hug?”

“A hug’d be nice.” You try to say it like a joke, but you’re crying too much to pass it off.

“If you let me in, I promise I’ll give you the best hug ever,” Alice says.

How could you say no to an offer like that? You unlock the door to the bathroom stall.

Alice is standing outside, with her spiky black hair and today’s odd dress, a black patchwork that makes her look like a little doll. She smiles when she sees you, a relieved expression like she was scared you wouldn’t open the door.

“Hi,” you say, suddenly shy and aware that you’re curled up on a toilet with your arms wrapped around your backpack like a lifeline.

“Hi,” Alice replies, still smiling at you. “Do you want that hug now?”

You nod wordlessly and drop your backpack to hold out your arms. She sweeps forward and picks you up with a strength you didn’t expect from her slight form. You wrap your legs around her waist automatically, and then she’s giving you the best hug of your entire life. There’s nothing except for Alice in the whole entire world: her dark hair, her sweet smell, her strong arms holding you close and safe. You melt against her, and she hums happily as you relax.

“There, honey. You’re okay, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. You don’t need to worry anymore.” The words make you sob into her shoulder, words that are exactly what you needed to hear.

“M’sorry,” you mumble, aware that you’re crying on a girl that you hardly know.

“Shhh, don’t be sorry. I’m here to take care of you.” Alice’s hand brushes through your hair and down your back, firm and soothing. “Don’t worry, honey.”

Your tears start to lighten, and you’re hit all of a sudden with the bone-deep weariness that always comes after crying. 

“Tired.” Your voice sounds distant and hoarse.

“Then sleep,” Alice tells you. “Everything will be fine. You’re safe.”

Her soft voice leaves no room for doubt, and you feel yourself drifting down into sleep as soon as she speaks. The last thing you hear is her voice humming a lullaby you don’t recognize.

–

You wake up slowly to the feeling of someone petting your hair.

“I wasn’t going to leave her,” you hear a voice say. “She needed someone with her, and I saw myself helping.”

“She’s awake now,” another voice replies from further away. “Do you want me to go?”

“It’s alright.” The fingers switch from your hair to run across your cheek, the touch feather-light. “She’ll like you, I can tell.”

You feel cozy and safe and small. There’s a blanket wrapped around you, soft against your cheek, and it keeps you warm even though the fingers of the person holding you are ice cold. You wiggle a little bit as you come to consciousness, humming at the feeling of being held.

“Good morning, little one.” Alice’s voice is familiar and warm. “How are you feeling?”

You manage to make a happy little sound at her, and she laughs.

“You’re so little!” Alice says, but she doesn’t sound mad about it. She tickles the side of your neck and you can’t help but giggle, squirming in your tightly-wrapped blanket. “I knew that sleeping would be good for you.” You can tell from the smile in her voice that she’s proud of herself.

You try to tell Alice that she’s silly, but your words aren’t working right now, and you can only make a little burbling noise at her. She beams down at you, and now that your eyes are open, you can see you’re in the backseat of a car, the top half of your body draped across Alice’s lap and cradled in her arms. You try to sit up to see where you are, but she runs her hands through your hair again and you melt back into her arms.

“Don’t worry,” Alice murmurs. “We’re only a block away from the school, a little off the road. I thought you’d want to be somewhere safe when you woke up.”

Some of the words register, and you smile at Alice contentedly. She’s very nice, and she took care of you all the way here. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so small and safe before. Your brain isn’t working, but that’s okay, because Alice is here to pet your head and that means everything is okay.

“You’re very out of it,” Alice says fondly. “Would you like to meet someone?”

Your eyes go wide. You’re not supposed to meet people when you’re like this, it’s a secret! No one is supposed to know that you can’t think like a big kid sometimes. Alice sees your panic and reacts quickly.

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s just Jasper. He’s my partner, remember him?” Alice shifts you in her arms easily, lifting you up so that you can see into the front seat. Her hands are strong and steady, but you still start to panic as you see another familiar person in the front seat.

Jasper turns to you and the panic starts to fade, replaced by calm as natural as breathing. He has bright golden eyes, and the light filtering through the clouds is enough to make his long curling hair a mess of shadow and highlights, like an old painter used his smallest brush to pick out the details.

“No worries,” Jasper tells you, and it’s true. Your worry has vanished, as if it was never there. “I just do what Alice tells me,” he adds in a whisper. “And she said to be very nice to you and not to tell anyone else.”

You laugh at him. He sounds silly when he whispers and you like his hair.

“I think that Alice likes you a lot,” Jasper says in that same stage-whisper. “She wouldn’t let go of you.”

“Jasper!” Alice’s arms tighten protectively around you. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I think she wants to adopt you,” Jasper finishes, with a wicked smile at Alice behind you.

“He’s so mean to me,” Alice says, burying her nose in your hair. “I don’t know why I love him.”

You draw an arm free of the blanket and reach out for Jasper, noticing the way his cheeks fold on themselves when he smiles. They look soft, and you want to touch them. However, as soon as you put a hand out, he flinches back from you, retreating into the front seat.

You begin to tear up at the sudden movement. You must have done something wrong, but why did he go away? You reach out for the front of the car with renewed insistence, whining in your throat.

“Oh, honey, no,” Alice says, pulling you back against her softly. “Jasper is shy, that’s all. He likes to talk, but no touch, okay?” She captures your outstretched hand and folds it between her own. Her skin is cool and ungiving, but the touch is gentle.

“Sorry.” Jasper’s voice is hushed, almost too quiet for you to hear.

“It’s okay.” Alice soothes both of you, rubbing your hand between her palms. “You’ll get used to each other.” Her voice turns mischievous, and she bounces you slightly on her lap, making you giggle at the motion. “I can see that you’ll get along very well in the future.”

That makes Jasper laugh as if Alice told a joke, and you can’t help but laugh along because you’re happy. Here in Alice’s arms, you can’t imagine the future being anything but perfect.


End file.
